


Clive Dove Accidentally Forcefeeds Himself 16 Litres Of Pudding

by 999blackflowers



Series: 1920s Supervillain AU [4]
Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes 1920s, Belly Expansion, Belly Kink, Breast Growth, Clothes Ripping, Force-Feeding, Gen, Mecha, Overeating, Stuffing, Tube Feeding, Weight Gain, expansion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:27:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25126978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/999blackflowers/pseuds/999blackflowers
Summary: Clive Dove tries to test the tube feeding system in his mech and it goes very, very badly.
Series: 1920s Supervillain AU [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1717498
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18





	Clive Dove Accidentally Forcefeeds Himself 16 Litres Of Pudding

**Author's Note:**

> A/N from 999blackflowers: Hello all! If you have come here from The Night Pieces, please understand that this is a self indulgent fetish work that doesn't have anything to do with the main plot and is noncanonical, but set in the AU. Please approach with caution. Reading The Night Pieces is not necessary to enjoy this work, however. 
> 
> This fic is focused around rapid erotic weight gain. Clive does put on large amounts of weight but the text does not shame him or use negative language around gaining weight, and he is happy with the results. I took care to make the fic avoid fat shaming in any sense. Please remember that real fat people are not your fetish and should not be treated as such.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS  
> Rapid Weight Gain  
> Restraints

It had occurred to Clive recently that although his mechs were unmatched in combat and inspiring terror, but if there was something he didn’t have - it was a machine that could function more than a couple hours. He had spent time looking into a longer power supply and indeed found one. Bigger and better mechs weren’t always what you wanted. You could only get so big and so much better before you’d obsoleted all your old masterpieces and made them only useful for scrap parts. And it’s not like those were  _ bad  _ in the first place.

Clive bit his lip as he slotted some smaller gears into a side-panel. The inside of this mech had a couple new things he’d come up with for the sake of long tiring battles - he envisioned  _ someone  _ might have stolen his mech plans or ideas. For one thing, the cockpit was wedged deep inside the chest. The outside was visible through a cathode-ray screen he’d managed to set up, which was able to send rapid black and white images through to the cockpit. It needed refining, but it worked.

The seatbelt was a tad more advanced than an easy strap over the shoulder. Instead it had restraints that would hold everything in place. A strap to hold his head in place, another around his chest, and one keeping his hands to the shift sticks. Being an unfinished mechanism, he had a button on the sticks that would release the safety mechanism, although he’d yet to program it. In the event that the deep cockpit was torn open, he could grab a pistol from a holder on the wall and try to fire for his life and dodge any large claws trying to pick him up. 

“If they actually get that deep I’ll probably be dead, anyway.” Clive chuckled defeatedly. He wiped the sweat from his brow and sat back in the seat, which fit him snugly. He was wearing a white grease stained t-shirt which he tended to throw on when working on anything mechanical. Although it would be better to wear something long sleeved to avoid any pinch points, the sweat that stained his shirt as much as the grease and oil was a pretty good reason to not wear anything more. On the other hand, he had some buttoned knee-length denim shorts. They were quite tight and difficult to work in, he knew, but on the other hand it felt like a waste to buy new jeans just to ruin by working knee-deep in oil.

The chair was comfortable enough for Clive to recline in it, and indeed it lay back. One of the smartest inventions of this was a basic system to keep him fed in case of a days long battle, as well as some basic plumbing. It was silly, but a tube to pee into capped with a plastic seal would probably be better and more dignified than wetting himself. He didn’t want to think about that  _ one  _ guy who aided The Professor by doing the majority of his dirty work and had that piss kink he spoke about extensively. He’d gone on  _ one  _ date with him and all he’d talked about was piss and gore. It was horrible.

On the other hand, there was a tube hanging from the ceiling connected to a mechanism that allowed it to move in several directions and rotate in case his seat got battered up. Just above his head was a 16L tank. His recent invention - some sort of thick sweet jelly he likened to pudding. He’d made it in the kitchen himself the other day. He’d designed it to be high calorie as to be energizing, as well as quick absorbing. That and he’d melted some chocolate into it and some sugar, mixed it up, and hey, that was pudding. It was also surprisingly hydrating.

Clive rested in the chair and looked over the dashboard, sliding the seat forward and flicking on some switches. A whine from the screen and it flicked on, showing him the outer warehouse he was building in. He could see his other mechs lined up against the back wall, all in varying sizes and for different purposes. His beloved angels. Metatron, Potesta, Sandalphon. He pondered over various names for the beautiful machine he presently sat in. Uriel, perhaps. 

Clive briefly wondered about the usefulness of building this thing on a structure using electricity with gears to move most of the internal parts. The electricity meant it would last longer by powering all the movement as well as the screens and weaponry - which he was still deciding. Absentmindedly, he reached forward to tap a button to test the seatbelts.

Leaning back, the seatbelt lurched to come up around his chest and head, locking him partially in place. The belt took a moment but it fixed his hands down to the twin shift sticks, and at his feet were a set of pedals. There was a whirr from above and something clicked in Clive’s head.

“Fuck.” Clive groaned. He hadn’t just set that to test the seatbelts, it was to activate just about every mechanism. His eyes went to the tube that was coming down from the ceiling, then to the screen in front of him in frustration. He wasn’t sure what to do, having forgotten to  _ not  _ hook up the mechanism for the hands. He needed a mechanism to keep his hands to the shift sticks seeing as it was quite hard when being shaken around - although for the time being he was frustrated with it. His thumbs jammed uselessly on the release buttons on the shift sticks, knowing it would do nothing. Once again, he’d failed to program them.

When the tube dropped to his eye level, he tried to remember if he’d properly programmed the thing yet. Until he remembered no, he had not. He’d set it up to merely empty its entire contents rather than giving small rations every couple hours. 

Clive tried to move his head back, but the restraints were keeping it where it was. He’d designed these to keep him in place and focused when being shaken around, but now it just seemed like the stupidest decision he could’ve ever made. The tube pushed forward and slotted into his mouth, somehow aligned perfectly. It pushed past his teeth and locked into place, leaving him trapped.

This was a  _ great _ idea. Clive just tried to get comfortable, recognizing struggling against his own device was useless. A glob of the chocolate pudding he made was rolling down the tube, and another, and another. Sweat trickled down his temple but he was powerless to wipe it. 

As the glob reached his tongue, he was suddenly breathless at how  _ good  _ it tasted. Clive felt tears spring to his eyes. The texture was perhaps somewhat like a thick mushy flan, tasting like rich chocolate. It pushed into his mouth and he eagerly swallowed it down until the next glob hit his tongue a couple seconds later. The tube evened out and began to slowly push out a steady stream of the pudding right into his throat, allowing Clive’s eyes to shut.

He tried to ignore the voice ringing in the back of his head reminding him of the tank capacity being so much higher than what his stomach could take. The pudding was designed to dissolve quickly, of course. A quick energy boost during combat but hopefully wouldn’t fill him up. He hoped.

Clive swallowed it down and listened to the tank slosh as it pushed its contents down slowly, yet constantly. Until he noticed his pants were tight.

Opening his eyes, and in the dim light of the screen, his eyes fell to his belly. It had expanded greatly onto his thighs like a fleshy orb, his shirt having been pushed up. He couldn’t see his shorts thanks to his belly, but he could feel the button straining. 

Clive tried to say something along the lines of  _ come on  _ but the tube jammed in his mouth prevented him from forming words. The seatbelt let him squirm just enough to struggle and try to get out, as helpless as it was. It barely took a second, but the button on his jeans popped onto the dashboard, skittering across it and falling down into an open wiring hole.

He groaned and pulled his wrists against the restraints as the tube kept pushing more pudding down into his throat. His belly sloshed as it grew too heavy for his sore thighs, cleaving his legs open as it continued to burble and groan, churning with sweet thick pudding. 

Now that he could see his thighs, he saw and  _ felt  _ them beginning to expand. They ached as they grew heavier and smushed out further on the seat. They were dimpled and pressed against his denim pants, and it was growing more tight by the second.

Strangely enough, his sleeves were getting tighter too. If he glanced down, he could see even the ridge of his shirt rolled up over his massive globular belly dimpling his flesh. He saw his nipples and twin rounded peaks forming and pushing out in his shirt, forming some sort of breasts. That made him a  _ tad  _ distressed, although he felt that swelling and stretching all over as the sweet fluid pushed itself onto his awaiting tongue and hungry throat. 

It kind of  _ was  _ delicious. With a bit of reluctance, Clive attempted to suck more of the pudding out of the tube and down into his throat. His hands were weak on the sticks, sweating and shaking. It was moorish, somehow he still felt hungry. He could feel his hips straining against the shorts, and tiny threads popping. His eyes went down to his chest as his breasts continued to fill out beautifully.

Clive felt a bead of sweat drip down his cheek as he continued to hungrily suck down the pudding still flowing steadily into his throat, until he felt his cock hard and throbbing, pressing up from underneath his wobbling churning belly. Perhaps it was his arms now feeling so tight and squashed by his own restraints.

The pudding had clouded his mind. He wanted more of it and quickly, desperately trying to suck it down, even as the threads on his shorts began to strain even further against his thighs. His stomach growled and grumbled, and his cock leaked uselessly. Clive suckled until the seams of his shorts finally popped, the fabric nearly bouncing off his rippling thighs and onto the seat.

Finally, Clive managed to suck the last drop of the pudding from the tank. To his relief, it pulled the tube out of his teeth, even if it left him whimpering for  _ more  _ for a moment. The machine routinely went through its error handling and released the restraints, letting him relax for a moment.

His shorts were destroyed and his shirt was ruined. Clive put a hand to his head to wipe it of sweat and struggled to properly sit up in a more comfortable position. His cock dragged against the leather seat and underneath his gigantic belly, causing him to shudder and cry out as an orgasm rocked him. Cum uselessly spurted onto the metal floor, much much more than he’d expected.

“God… goddamnit.” Clive groaned. He suspected his belly would go down from stretched and full in likely a few hours, but his biggest issue was presently, this mech had far more flaws in its coding than expected. Even unfinished, he could already recognize some conflicts that would lead to unnecessary energy consumption.

On the other hand, despite that endeavour and several pounds he’d put on, Clive kicked his legs experimentally and found himself miraculously rejuvenated even after working for so many hours and tiring himself out. 

“I suppose it works, then.” Clive smiled faintly and laid his hands out over his belly, taking a moment to chuckle. He  _ did  _ need to get his clothes retailored, anyway… His hand went to his chest, only finding he had developed quite perky large breasts. He grasped them to jiggle experimentally and only found a smile coming to his face.

**Author's Note:**

> clive is my sstuffing muse now


End file.
